


Pink

by MinawaKitten



Series: Carnations [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Missing Limb, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, mentions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6930964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinawaKitten/pseuds/MinawaKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She just wanted to find her boyfriend's best friend. She never did expect everything to spiral out of control. . .</p><p>--</p><p>Pink follows the adventures of Steve and Serena Starlight. It's mainly Bucky-centered as the couple tries to help Bucky adjust to the 21st century. In addition to that mess of chaos, Serena comes into care of a strange amnesiac girl.</p><p>--</p><p>Originally titled Yellow because I flubbed up the meanings of Carnations; One of many sequels to Striped Carnations!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A single woman sits at a shining white work desk, surrounded by several holographic screens at the early hours of the morning. Time seems to be irrelevant to her as her fingers dance over the holographic keyboard at high speeds.

She wears a gray vest - trimmed with a shimmering purple - decorated with small silver star shaped charms that hang from the long tail. Under the vest was a navy top with puffed sleeves and silver cuffs. A pair of gray shorts are held in place with a simple black leather belt with a silver buckle. On her legs are a pair stockings with galaxy print.

Against the side of her desk, a pair of ankle high black leather zip up boots are carelessly thrown aside with a pair of black leather fingerless gloves, adorned with silver studs. She lets out a sigh, leaning back in her chair, her fingers playing with the silver chain around her neck.

She raises her other hand to push back her blonde curls back and away from her purple hued eyes as they scan over the text on her many screens. She rubs at a purple star-shaped mark under her left eye and yawns.

Looking away from her screens, she smiles and looks at the most recent addition to her office - the nameplate on her desk reading Serena ‘Star’ Starlight.

Despite being the newest Avenger, she isn’t one for fieldwork, instead, she is content with working from her office in Avengers’ Tower as support or the occasional backup unit. Truth be told, her skills lay in locating and tracking down people, as well as in magical research and a magic history.

And honestly, at this very moment, she _really_ wanted to smash her face into a keyboard. Her current target was an elusive one. He’s been on the run for several months and none of them have any business -- nor desire -- to arrest his stupid ass but goddamn it he refuses to sit still.

Oh my _GOD_.

It’s like a game of ‘Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?’. Only with an ex-assassin who is a bigger pain in the ass to find than some flighty broad in a red coat and huge stupid hat.

Serena knows the motherfucker is in Russia. She _knows_ that for certain. He’s the only one with the sheer man power to destroy several HYDRA related hold ups on his own. Sure, the guy was an assassin, but couldn’t he at least make himself easier to find?

Serena lets out a loud exaggerated groan as she pressed her face into the palm of her hand. Her eyelids were starting to get heavy. How annoying. She’s got work to do. . . This isn’t the time to sleep.

Work! She has work to do!

Serena is so deeply engrossed -- and frustrated -- with her work she doesn’t hear the door to her office slide opening and gives her visitor gets an eyeful of her smashing the keys on her keyboard in frustration.  She gives a start at the deep baritone laugh coming from behind her.

“You know if you’re tired, you can go to bed.”

“You know I can’t, I have to. . .” She pauses for a moment, only to bite back a yawn. Serena proceeds to spin her seat around in order to face the individual that decided to invite themselves into her office. She knew without a doubt it was Steve. Since he’s the only few that bother to enter her lab while she works. “When did you get in here?”

“Just now.” The figure of her boyfriend leans against the doorway. His stance is absolutely awkward as ever.  He may be the symbol of America but in one on one conversations with her -- he was an absolute mess. “Wanted to see how my Star is doing.” Goodness. That nickname was absolutely gross and dorky and  his smile is so wonderful but it doesn’t do much to cover up how much he’s blushing or how nervous he is.

What a fucking nerd.

She snorted.  “That’s it? Do you think you can be a distraction somewhere else, it’s barely even. . . oh.”  Glancing to the clock in the corner of her computer screen she realizes it’s just about three in the morning. When did it even get this late?

Well.

Shit.

That explains why Steve was here. He must have been waiting for her to show up and wish him goodnight, but here she is, neck deep in searching and scouring video feed for clues.

“Sorry, I didn’t even realize …”

Steve laughs.  “Don’t worry about it.”  His gaze shifts to the blurry photograph in the middle of one of Serena’s screens.  “I want to find him, too.” Serena lets out a yawn rather suddenly. Steve blinks, looking at her with wide eyes. Serena does what she can to ignore that dumb dreamy smile spreading across his face as she flushes red. It seems now that she was aware of the hour and no longer looking at the screen of her computer it was starting to sink in how late it was.

“Just let me run this script, hopefully it’ll find something while I’m gone.” Serena quickly spins around to press a few buttons on her keyboard. With that taken care of, she spins around once more and rises to her feet.

Or attempts to.

Since she was sitting for so long, she’s lost feeling in her legs and nearly trips but her suave boyfriend comes to her rescue and helps her back to her feet with that kind, gentleman like smile.

nerd nerd nerd nerd

God hes a fucking nerd but damn it all, he’s _her_ nerd.

They walk back to boarding together, with Star mostly leaning on Steve. Maybe that was why it took her so long to realize they were not heading to her room, but Steve’s instead. She sleepily raised a brow.

“Sneaking girls into your room at such late hours captain? What will the others think?”

Steve grinned.  “Not just any girl, the most amazing girl I’ve ever known.” Star tries her hardest not to smile back but she the attempt fails rather quickly. She gives the captain a small shove to his shoulder as her face glowed red.

“Oh stop that, you’re just trying to butter me up!”

“Doesn’t matter, no compliment I say could ever be too much.” Star hums, supporting her right arm with her other hand on her elbow and cups her right cheek with her right hand. She gives her boyfriend a hard look before stepping closer to him, her body pressing against his muscular chest.

“So, are you trying to say there was no motive to bring me to your room at the at this time of night?” She rests her hands on his chest, tilting her head upwards to reveal lidded purple hues.

Steve blushes. “Oh, um.  There … actually wasn’t, not that I’m saying I wouldn’t?  But … you know, if you want to?”  He leans against the doorframe.  “Well … do you want to?”

“You know I would love to darling,” She smiles. “But it’s too late for that. After all, you came to my office to make sure I got some sleep. If we went at it there would be no way I’d catch a wink.”

He grins back at her.  “Well then, let’s get you to bed.”  He unlocks his door and leads her in.  He barely wraps his arms around her before he feels her fall asleep, her breathing deep and rhythmic.  He smiles as he closes his eyes and nestles his face against the back of her neck.  He moved his arm from around her waist up to her hair, gently stroking it.  She was familiar, safe.  Something that could anchor him to this time, even if he didn’t belong here.  He smiled at that thought.  He could belong to someone. He propped himself up on his elbow so he could pull her hair away from her face and kiss her on the cheek.

“Good night, Star. My Star.”

 

* * *

 

Morning comes and Steve isn’t so surprised to find himself alone in the bed.  Of course she’d go right back to work as soon as she gets up; that’s just like her.  He takes a quick shower and makes two mugs of coffee, taking them both to her lab.

“Morning, Starlight.” Serena pauses her work for a moment, but only to press a light kiss to her boyfriend’s lips and to take her cup of coffee from him. She takes a small sip of the hot drink before immediately diving back into her work.

Steve grinned.  “You know, we’re allowed breaks longer than that.”

“Can’t. Important.  Lots of data to deal with.”  She spun to a different monitor, scribbling notes on a pad from it before heading back to her keyboard.

“Star.  Please, you need to take care of yourself.”

“I’m fine.” She quips, quickly punching in the data and hitting enter. Steve opens his mouth to protest once more but she beats him to the punch. She rises to her feet in order to take his face into her hands and pull him into a kiss to silence him. Once they part, she wraps her arms around his torso, resting her head against his chest. “Besides, I’m doing this to make you happy. Finding your friend is important to you, so it’s important to me.”  She reaches over to her keyboard and taps in a quick sequence, then rapidly spins to the printer.

She pulls out the piece of paper it prints out and hands it to Steve.  “And I found him.  This is all the information you need, so I can go have my breakfast now.”  She winks at him as she picks up her coffee mug again, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair as she takes a sip.

She looks up at Steve, who’s already leaning in for the kiss.  She moves her mug away just in time to avoid catastrophe and allows herself to enjoy it.  When they part she whispers “Go get your team, you nerd.” Ah yes. They were true masters of romance.

Steve steps back and winks.  “I’ll be back before you know it.”  He leaves her office quickly to hide the blush appearing on his face.  Clearing his throat, he raised his voice a bit.  “Friday, you there?”

 _“I am always here, Captain,”_ comes the now-familiar voice.

“Can you tell Sam and Nat to meet me in the hangar in half an hour? Give them everything they need to know for the mission.”

_“Of course.”_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> // strums guitar // short chapter before the fun begins

Three days.

It’s been three days since Steve left. Nothing out of the ordinary has passed since then but that doesn’t stop Serena from stressing out. No messages or calls have come in, all to keep them off the radar more than likely, which only makes her stress more.

She doesn’t have a reason to fear or to be bothered by Bucky Barnes. He’s Steve’s best friend. . . even if he totally tried to fuck SHIELD up and kill her boyfriend. Neither of which is actually his fault, but it still.

Fuck.

Okay. 

She has a lot to be concerned about. Thanks to HYDRA Bucky is all sorts of fucked up. He’s probably angry, confused and scared. What if he can't remember Steve and seriously hurts him? Steve thinks otherwise, but it’s a thought that has her scared either way.  

God. 

There are so many ‘what if’s in this situation.

“Still thinking about your boyfriend?” A familiar voice asks as a mug of coffee is placed on her desk. Serena sighs deeply, leaning back in her chair.

“Shouldn’t you be in therapy?” She questions in a clearly bored tone. 

“Not for another couple hours.” The person shrugs. They grab the nearby empty seat, move it closer to Serena’s desk and place their feet on her desk once they settle down. She gives them a look but they really don't seem to care. “So, what’s on your mind Starlight?”

“Just thinking of possibilities where everything can go wrong. You know, the usual Tony.” Serena sighs, nursing her cup of coffee. Tony Stark proceeds to let out a long exaggerated sigh which makes her rolls her eyes in response. 

“You can't sit around and think of ‘what if’ all the time.”

“Says you,” Serena snorts. “Everyone knows you have a million ‘what if’s going through your head if Pepper is involved.” Tony silently stares at her, clearly attempting to make a smart comeback but all he has is a simple:

“No.”

Serena bursts out laughing.

“Hey, I’m trying to help you out here. Don’t laugh at me.”

“You’re pretty terrible at it.” She snorts. “But, it’s the thought that counts.” Serena tilts her head back, letting out a sigh. “No matter what, we’re going to worry about our significant others . . .”

“To be fair, mine isn’t the one who jumps into danger whenever he feels like he needs to be there.  I can have Friday …”

“She’s already going to tell me once she detects their Quinjet coming in for a landing, and I asked her for any updates.”

“Of course you did.”  They sit in silence for a while, Serena sipping her coffee. Eyes awkwardly shift about trying to find someway to make this any less weird. It wasn’t really working. Tony tries to make conversation by asking about the progress of her side project. Serena raises a brow.

“Really? You’re asking about that?” He shrugs. “Well, I haven’t made much progress on it since I started to help Steve with his search.”

“Right, of course.  Hey, T’Challa wanted me to ask you if you could send him a bit of data on what he calls magical anomalies?”

“Sure,” Serena yawns. “I can do that. . . There seems to be an odd one in the city at the moment. Or, hanging over it anyway.  His crew is really good with figuring things out, so they’d probably be really helpful helping me figure out what it is and if we need to worry about it.”  She turned to her computer to start bringing up the data she’d been collecting when Friday’s voice interrupted.

_ “Excuse me, Miss Starlight, but you wanted to know when Captain Rogers was coming home.” _

Serena finds herself running towards the hangar at full speed.  In heels.  She realizes the mistake she’d made when she finds herself doing a faceplant as she trips through the hangar door.

“Well, not quite the sight for sore eyes I’d imagined, but definitely still a sight for sore eyes.”  Steve’s voice.  Well, there was no way to recover from this. There was no other choice. She had to decapitate herself. 

Serena scrambled to her feet and ran for her boyfriend. Once she was close enough, she flung herself onto his body, wrapping her limbs around him as if she was a koala bear. As she happily nuzzled her head against his neck, she spotted Barnes.

He was still sitting in the Quinjet, a blanket around his shoulders and a bit damp. Probably from all the snow he was living in back in Russia. Honestly, it made him look a lot like a dirty, but somewhat lovable, stray dog. He stared back at Serena before cracking something like a small grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned. . . Stevie has a girl.”

“Come on Buck, I already told you on the way here.”

“Yeah, but … you have a  _ girl _ .” Bucky suddenly looks. . . nostalgic and a bit sadder. Maybe seeing her and Steve together reminded him of the girl he once loved. 

Steve had mentioned her a few time to Serena. She was a bit of a mystery, but always kind and loving, doing her best to support both Steve and Bucky. Before Bucky left for war, he proposed to her and she accepted. . . shortly after that, she seemed to vanish into thin air.

Serena had tried to search for Cosmo Hill a few times but nothing useful ever came up. Just a few utility bills for an apartment in Brooklyn -- which was rented out for several months -- and apparently was an employee at a store. 

Other than that several month timespan, there was no proof she ever existed.

Serena detaches herself from Steve, giving him a small smile before motioning back to Bucky with a smile. She continues to stand by his side as he offers a hand to his friend. Steve smiles warmly and welcomingly. Bucky’s posture if still stiff, a small signal to show that he’s not sure of what to feel about these changes.

After all, his previously established lifestyle in Russia was simplistic. It was just him, alone, working a meager job by day to survive in a shit apartment and taking apart smaller Hydra branches at night. He worked fast and efficiently before anyone could report they saw him.

But now, he had his friend back. . . He would be living somewhere, safer and secured. Financially, physically and emotionally. It was . . . weird, but it was a comforting weird.  At least he’d have Steve - a familiar face and voice, even if his new large, muscular body still took some getting used to.

Still, he had an anchor to his past, and that was far more than he’d had in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

There would be nights he would remember things.

Wake up in a cold sweat, the memories so fresh and vivid in his mind -- that he had to jot it all down in a notebook before it was all gone.

They never vanished although. He just had to write them down to know they were real and not some dream he made up.

Many entries would be about Cosmo. About how forlorn she looked at times and how he felt a smile was much more appropriate on her face. A smile that was like a ray of sunlight in these times. He recalled that her laughter sounded like tiny silver bells.

But. . .He can't see that smile or hear that voice anymore. They were together seventy years ago. There was no way she waited that long for him. . . If she was alive. For all he knows she’s dead. He visited her apartment once during a layaway before a mission, but she was gone. No one knew where she went to or why.

Bucky rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes, denying whatever was building up in his eyes. Tear, frustration, annoyance. Whatever it was, it didn’t belong here. Soldiers didn’t cry like this.

No. No.

Shit.

He isn’t a soldier anymore, but he’s still got to be strong.

“Buck?” Shit. He didn’t even notice the door opening. How out of it is he to miss something as simple as that? Glancing to the cracked doorway he sees that it’s Steve. Oh god. Someone give him a metal. He must be the best friend in the world if his antics are making Steve visiting him at three in the goddamn morning.

“I’m . . . I’m good, Steve.”  He blinked back -- whatever was in his eyes -- and gave his best smile, which he knew all too well couldn’t convince him.  “I just . . .  I need to go lie down right now.” Jesus Christ. That was pathetic.

Thankfully, Steve wasn’t like his dame and he didn’t push the matter any farther than that. The two remained in an awkward silence before Steve nodded his head.

“Alright,”  Slowly, the door began to ease close but Steve came to a halt as something came to mind. “But . . . Buck?” Bucky ruffled his tangled hair and nervously licked his lips, wondering what Steve had to say now.

“Yeah, Steve?”

“You . . . you know I’m here, right?” His shoulder slouched, looking a bit more relaxed and the smile he gave was a bit more genuine this time.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Finally, the door closes with a click. Bucky reluctantly rises from his bed and throws himself face first into the pillow in an attempt to muffle a frustrated yell that escaped him.

How much longer could he stay in this place before he finally became a burden?

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, mornings are an absolute mess.

Memories would most often leave him irritable for many reasons. The stark contrast of who he is and who he was. A hollow reminder of those he loved were dead or gone. Worst of all, it would be a heavy reminder of what a monster he is.

He try to relieve his stress by heading to the gym and punching at the sandbag for what seemed like hours. He would punch and punch until his raw strength destroyed the sandbag, making it spill its contents on the floor. If he wasn’t satisfied, he would turn to the wall and slam his fists against it again and again, until his human hand was red with blood and his metal hand would make sound of protest.

 

* * *

 

“So,” Serena begins, folding her fingers together. “What is this. The fifth time?” She questions raising a brow. Bucky glances away from her, shoving his messy hands into the pocket of the dirty jacket he called his own. She continues to stare, making him reluctantly sigh and shrink in on himself.

“Yeah.”

“Please stop kicking your own ass Bucky.” She sighs.

“I’ll try.” Serena made a mental note to talk to Tony about getting his arm upgraded. Like. Vibranium or something. At least he wouldn’t have to get so many fixes so often if it was vibranium. He could even get a cool white star on it.

“C’mon, gimme your hand.” Serena sighs, beckoning Bucky closer to her desk as she pulls a first aid kid from a drawer. “I can't clean it if it’s shoved in your coat.”

 

* * *

 

His face is buried in his pillow again.  He sees flashes of her - Cosmo.  The girl he’d left in the past.  Star and Steve had gone to the building her apartment used to be in, and pulled something out, hidden away behind some drywall - a sets of pictures, which Steve had recognized, and which seemed to dredge more memories out of Bucky’s past.

Coney Island.  That argument with Steve, just one of many.

Familiar eyes, staring at him, watching him expectantly.  Eyes that only ever saw the best in him.  Eyes he couldn’t ever look into again.  Eyes he didn’t deserve to ever see again - not after what he’d done.

A kiss.  Perhaps the last real one he’d ever have.  Back before he’d done the unspeakable.

His pillow is wet.  He hears her voice, reciting every mission he was on as the Winter Soldier.  He sees the faces of every target, every assassination.

He’s shaking.  Can’t breathe.  Heart racing. Panic attack. He forces in a breath.  Then another.  Feels himself hitting the ground, metal arm first - it clangs loudly against the floor.

The sound of footsteps, a door opening.  Steve’s voice.  Can’t hear him, too far away.  His face is right here, why is his voice so far?  He sounds concerned.  Of course he is, he’s always worried.

Silly Steve.

Bucky should be worrying about you.

That’s the last thought he has before passing out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw heres serena's concept art
> 
> http://minawakitten.co.vu/post/129362972670/name-serena-star-starlight-age-29-read

Her old apartment looked like hell. To be frank, the whole building did. It was abandoned long ago so Steve was more than surprised to find anything at all. It wasn’t much, but with Serena’s help the couple found a small number of photos, all in a little metal box. 

It wasn’t difficult to find - they’d found what used to be Cosmo’s apartment, and Steve still remembered every bit of it - except that the bedroom used to be a bit bigger.  The window was still there, so it was fairly easy to figure out where the drywall was added.

He couldn't help but be curious to know how the box got behind the drywall in the first place, but, the fact they found anything was a blessing so he wouldn’t question it. Not now anyway. 

“Whaaaat?” Serena gasps, taking a photo right from his hands. It was a simple one; Cosmo and Bucky’s arms wrapped around Steve’s shoulders and all three of them were grinning. “Stevie, you used to be so tiny!”

Oh.

Right. 

Oh gosh. 

He probably looked so strange to her. There weren’t many photos of him as a scrawny brat from Brooklyn. History books loved to go on about how he was the big, strong symbol of America and go off about his amazing historic feats.

“Ah, you’re so cute.” Serena beams, pinching his cheek. Steve blushes. Cute? Well, he wasn’t expecting that. And she wasn’t even patronizing about it. She  _ meant it _ . Christ. That’s pretty embarrassing. . . “But I love you no matter what size you are.” She winks. 

Steve makes a sound like a wheeze and a choke.

“Get your head out of the gutter.” Serena snickers. She leans up and kisses her boyfriend’s cheek. “What you look like on the outside doesn’t matter much to me.” She lightly pokes his chest. “What I love is your heart. You’re so kind, loving and caring for others. I’m so lucky to have someone like you at my side.” Steve frowns as she trails off in a sad quiet voice. He wraps an arm around her waist, bringing her closer so he could rest his chin on the top of her head.

“I feel the same, no matter who you are. Serena Starlight or not, you’re the love of my life. . . A woman that takes control and works so hard to protect what she loves.” Steve pulls back a little to press a kiss to the top of her head. She blushes. A smile pulls  at her lips, and Serena presses her face to her beloved’s chest.

Serena Starlight was the name of some dead girl. 

It wasn’t her name. . . she wanted to know who she was so much. . . but, when Steve held her, it really didn’t matter that much. No matter what, he would always accept her and she was so happy for that.

 

* * *

 

When they returned to the tower, Steve gently placed the box into Bucky’s hands. Bucky gave him a confused look before opening the box. Inside were a couple photos. . . He gave Steve a baffled look before he took a photo into his hand and examined them. 

His scrambled mind tried to figure out who the woman and man in the photos were to no avail. Huffing, he flipped the photo over and there he found something written in neat curly handwriting. 

‘Coney Island. 1941.’

That. .  .That was familiar to him. Steve must have noticed that because he’s smiling again.

“Do you remember Buck?”

“Something familiar. . .” He muttered.

“That’s good.” Steve continues to grin. “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” Bucky nods his head. Instinctively, he tenses up when Steve gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder but he relaxes enough that the second pat doesn’t bother him that much. He manages to give Steve a small grin in return.

 

* * *

 

Serena decided to keep one of the photos. Not because she could have a keepsake of her tiny boyfriend, but she had actual photographic evidence of this ‘Cosmo’ person existing and with the photo she could finally perform searches using photos and facial recognition. 

But, rather surprisingly, she was finding results to be . . .rather recent? 

The first photo she found was dated to be about two years old and was on the front page of a flower shop’s website. Serena recognized the shop in an instant. It was a nice little place and it was pretty popular too. The Avengers frequently visited it when someone else got hurt and they decided to give the lucky injured person flowers.

Serena sighed, placing her cheek in her hand a she tried to recall if she’s ever seen the girl at the shop before. She couldn’t. She could recall a girl with the same hair color but the facial structure was too different. 

Serena leans back in her chair, sighing as she crosses her arms. She shakes her head and adds the photo from the website to her database. The photo expanded her searches but not a whole lot. After what felt like forever, she finally found another photo. This time on a social media site.

It was a high school graduation photo featuring Cosmo and some other girl, the owner of the account, for the class of 2008? Looking at the poster’s comment, it turned out that the name used to refer to ‘Cosmo Hill’ was completely different.

Serena takes another deep breath and leans back father in her seat.

Okay. This is a definite match. There was no way around it, even with softer younger features, they were definitely a match to the images she was using as references. However, what made this even weirder was that there was a 100% match between the photo from the flower shop’s website and the photo from Coney Island. 

It was almost like they were taken within months of each other but how could that even be possible?

If that girl graduated in 2008, she was most likely eighteen years old at the time. Then the flower shop photo was taken two years ago, she had to be at least in her mid twenties when it was taken. . . but . . . 2014 is not 1941.

As her computer searched various databases with the new name she’s found -- Serena tries to come up with possible explanations to this. Time travel was one, but that was science fantasy bullshit. Could this girl be a mutant? 

Or. . . 

Maybe, just maybe. . . 

This was connected to that strange magic source hanging over the city? It just may be possible. Maybe this strange reading was the cause of a series of strange supernatural occurrence that could move people through various points in time?

That sounded absolutely crazy, but there’s been all sorts of crazy things she’s dealt with before.

As she ponders the idea a little longer, a thought suddenly hits her and Serena is immediately rolling away from her desk to her filing cabinet across the room. She pulls the third drawer down out and lets her fingers skip over the tabs -- which are named after the months.

January.

February.

March.

Yes. Here we are. 

April of 2014. 

The year Bucky resurfaced after so long as the Winter Soldier, just to assassinate Steve.

It was just as usual day for her, a time before she joined the Avengers. She was blessed with strange powers as far back as she could remember and it’s been years since she learned she was not ‘Serena Starlight’.

She began looking into odd occurrences and strange happenings in an attempt to find answers to who she was and where she came from when her machines began to pick up a magical reading. The waves that reading gave off are identical to the one she’s been researching for the last few months. However, unlike now, that source of magic happened to blinked out in a matter of minutes. 

So much has happened between then and now that she forgot all about this reading. . .

April 3rd, 2014. . .

So much more happened that day than they thought, didn't it?

Serena looks away from the paper in her hand as she hears her computer beep. She quickly rolls back to her desk, sheet of paper in hand, but comes in a little too fast and slams her stomach into the edge of her desk.

“Christ.” She wheezes. Shoving her pain aside, she glances up to the screen.

. . . Adoption papers?

That was the oldest document about this girl. Adopted by some small family from Florida in 1990. Her original family is completely unknown as there’s no birth certificate. There’s no solid answers to who she is.

Just like her. . .

“What the hell?” Serena mutters, getting a bit frustrated. Huffing, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. This isn’t how she expected the search to go. She was expecting some quick answers or a swift dead end. Not ten thousand more questions. 

“Is it that bad?” Steve’s voice asks as he leans over her seat. Serena loudly groans and slouches deeper into her seat. Steve gives her a moment to recollect herself, which she does. 

“It’s a real mess.” Serena sighs, sitting up in her seat. “She’s got 100% facial recognition with this photo from a flower shop’s website. The photo is two years old, by the way.” Serena switches to her web browser to point to the photo on the social media site. “Graduated High School in 2008, but ‘Cosmo Hill’ is not her name. She has no birth certificate either, just adoption papers for a family that found her in Florida in 1990.” Serena comes to a stop, watching her boyfriend absorb all of this new information. Steve’s face is an assortment of emotions; confusion, fear and concern. 

“How can that be?” Steve questions. “I met her in the 1940s. I know I did!” Serena sighs once more, pulling a thin black tube with a blue tip. She takes a long, slow drag and exhales a cherry scented cloud, making sure to turn away from her boyfriend. Even if it was an e-cigarette, smoking wasn’t something he was ever happy about but all of this was stressing her. Steve could probably tell and give her a pass on smoking right in front of him right now.

“I’m not doubting you.” She finally speaks. “That day. The day we met. The day Bucky tried to assassinate you. You know, in 2014?”

“What about it. . .?”

“The magical waves hanging round the city for the last month,” She hands the sheet of paper to Steve with one hand as her other hand pulls up her charts. Her finger traces over the shape of the waves, jagged and wild curves with a random drop in the middle before it shoots back up. “They appeared on that day too. The same waves but the length of time is clearly different. The waves in April 2014 was a much smaller burst.” Steve looks between the sheet of paper and the holographic screen. Just as Serena said, although the shape is condensed since the waves in 2014 appeared and vanished so fast, it was definitely the same wave and shape. 

“What does this mean then?” Serena shrugs her shoulder, exhausted.

“I mean, at this point it’s only a wild theory, but, what if those magic waves snatched up that girl and threw her back in time? It would make sense why this photo of her from 2014 is a 100% match with that photo from Coney Island.”

“Then. . . could the magic waves are trying to return her? Now?” There was a bit of excitement in Steve’s voice. Serena found herself smiling a bit. Of course he was excited. She was someone dear to both him and Bucky.

“It’s a possibility. We cannot confirm or deny until the wave make their delivery and leave.”

“Is there anything else we can do to confirm it?”

“I've sent the data to T’challa, maybe he has something.  I could give him a call …”

Just then, Friday’s voice interrupted. “Captain Roger's,  it appears Mr. Barnes is experiencing increased heart rate and hyperventilation associated with a panic attack. You may wish to check on him in his room.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Serena apologetically.  “Go,” She told him, shooing him away. “I can call T’challa while you're gone. He needs you.”

Steve ran towards the dormitory, hearing a loud clang as he got to Bucky’s door.  He opened it to find his friend shaking on the floor, curled up in fetal position.  “Bucky!”

He helps his friend sit up and cradles him in his arms.  “Hey Buck I’m here, don’t worry.  It’ll be alright.”  His friend’s eyes seem distant, unfocused.  “Buck?  Can you hear me?”  Bucky’s eyes won’t focus, but his face turns towards him.  “Come on Buck, breathe with me.  I’ll count, I just need you to breathe with me and everything will be alright.”  He can feel his old friend shaking, his breath coming in and out in short gasps as he begins to count.

“Steve.”

“Don’t try to talk now, just focus on breathing.”  Steve continues to count, but either Bucky can’t hear him properly or can’t control his breathing, because his breaths only get faster and shallower.  Soon enough, he feels his friend go limp in his arms on the floor as he passes out.

Steve stays with Bucky for a while longer on the floor until he feels his heart rate and breathing slow down and even out, stroking his hair.  After a while, he picks him up and lays him on his bed.

He tucks his friend in and turns out the light.

“Sleep tight, Buck.”

Steve walks himself back to Serena’s office, asking Friday to tell him when Bucky is about to wake up on the way but his feet feeling like heavy lead the whole time. With the phone pressed to her head, Serena is unable to greet him so he waits instead. Several minutes pass before she hangs up the phone and his arms wrap around her in an instant.

Steve is usually affectionate, but. . . this time it feels different -- she quickly notes. She turns her head in the direction of his, which is pressed against the right side of her neck, to inquire what’s wrong but his lips suddenly press against her own.

It’s a bit suffocating as he pours everything he’s feeling into it; grief, frustration and concern. It quickly becomes clear that Bucky’s panic attack has shaken him up quite a bit. The two part and Steve tries to take a couple steps back, clearly embarrassed with his own reaction, but Serena prevents him from doing so by placing a hand on his forearm. 

“Hey, Stevie, talk to me.” She pleads softly. “I’m here for you too.” After what seemed like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke up.

“He had a pretty bad panic attack and passed out. He seems stable right now, so I tucked him in.”As he took a seat in the spare hair, he added with a small voice; “I hope he's alright.”

Serena gave him a comforting smile as she gently stroked her thumb over the skin of his forearm. “I'm sure he will be, he's got you looking out for him.”

Steve smiled back, a bit weakly.  “Thanks. I just wish I knew what to do, I'm scared one day I won't be able to help him. Or worse, that I'll be what sets him panicking.”

“You? Making someone panic?” Serena started to laugh, but stopped when she saw the seriousness of his face. “Steve, you're the most gentle and caring person on this planet. If it helps you feel better, we can meet with a therapist for training on what to do next time this happens. That way you'll be prepared.”

Steve sighed and closed his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.  Thanks, Star.” He felt her arms slowly encircle his shoulders.

“Any time, Stevie.”


	5. Chapter 5

There’s an old saying, that time heals all wounds.

By no means is Bucky completely healed, but he’s certainly getting better over the course of the last few months. There’s been a few incidents where he’s thrown a knife at the toaster because the ‘ding’ it makes is distinctly different from the one in his old apartment in Russia.

Clint and Natasha always give Bucky a score on his ability to swiftly destroy the toaster; A perfect ten points. He would always look apologetic but it’s not like that’s the worst thing to happen in Avengers Tower. It happened frequently enough that Tony would roll his eyes and ask Friday to order a new one.

When Bucky enters a room he’s no longer glancing around in search of something he could use as a weapon or for a quick escape route. He’s not used to praise or a pat on a shoulder when he comes back from a mission, but he’s starting to smile in response. It a sign that he was finally comfortable with the tower and the people in it. 

 

* * *

 

“Going somewhere Sailor?” Bucky asks from his spot on the couch. His eyes haven’t even looked away from the tv screen at all, but goddamn he knows it’s Serena walking by.

“What season are you on?” She asks as she tries to pull on a pair of white wedges while standing on one foot. It was a disaster waiting to happen but that didn’t seem to deter her at all. Bucky grins when he hears the telltale yelp and crash although.

“A movie.” He pauses for a moment before adding “Hearts in Ice.”

“I liked that one.” Serena states as she lays on the floor in defeat, pulling on her second wedge. Never mind she’s probably dirtying up her new threads; A gray trench coat, matching high waters and a simple white v cut shirt. “Used a lot of fairy tale and mythology motifs.”

Their conversation is cut short by a familiar chuckle. “You okay there, Star?” Serena swiftly changes her pose on the floor so she’s laying on her side with her head propped up with a hand. She eyes her boyfriend before breaking into a grin. It was something simple with their date in mind; Tan slacks, a jean jacket and navy muscle shirt. 

“I am now.” She purrs, fluttering her lashes.

“Please don’t make out on the floor behind me,” Bucky mutters, eyes not looking away from the TV Screen. “I’d like to be able to watch this in peace.”

“Spoilsport.” Serena huffs. She takes Steve’s hand and rises to her feet. However, he doesn’t show sign of letting go so she decides to rest her hands on the sleeves of his jacket.  She takes a moment to note that he chose to wear his fancy cologne today, and makes a show of breathing it in. She smiles back at him, her eyes twinkling.  “And I was just getting to enjoy seeing my boyfriend in his casual wear.”

“What, the spandex hides too much for you?” Steve grins at her mischievously.

“OUT.” Bucky demands, pointing in the direction of the nearest door and  _ still  _ not looking away from his anime.

“Okay, okay, we’re going!” Steve laughs, taking his girlfriend by her hand. They walk out to the garage, to where Steve’s motorcycle sits nested between two of Tony’s sports cars. They each pull a helmet from their respective locker and pull them on. 

Steve was a simple navy open face helmet with a visor and little white wing stickers on the side. Serena’s was much alike, a white open face helmet but instead of a visor, she has a pair of goggles. Once they were properly equipped, they proceeded to climb onto the bike -- Steve in front, and Serena right behind him with her arms wrapped around his torso.

Steve looked back and Serena gave him a light squeeze to let him know she was ready, and with that, they were off.  As they drove down the street, Steve’s face was split into a wide grin at the feeling of his lover wrapped around him. Needless to say, he was grateful the helmet hid most of the blush on his face as Serena pressed herself up against him. 

Humming softly, she presses her face against his back to keep the wind out and breathes his scent in. Her grin grows wider and she presses her face to his back a little more. He smelled  _ good _ . Not to say he didn’t smell good on any other day, but he was using the good stuff today for their little date and she really loved that. 

Every stoplight, Steve would take one hand off the handles of the motorcycle and play with Serena’s hands clasped over his middle. She’d continue to beam and hold his hand or occasionally intertwine their fingers together. 

It’s far too soon when they arrive at their destination: the Museum of Modern Art.  Once they’ve parked their vehicle and stowed away their helmets, they enter the main foyer of the building hand in hand. Smiling -- and looking quite eager himself -- Steve turns to Serena.  “So, anything you want to see?”

“Let’s see the melting clocks first!” She enthusiastically laughs. Steve playfully rolls his eyes, all aware she knows the actual name of the painting. On their way through the lobby, they pass by a booth distributing audio guides. Steve quirks an eyebrow.  

“Do you think we’ll need one?” He asks motioning to them. Serena snorts.

“Why, do you need one, gramps?”

“Okay fine, I suppose I’ll go without one, just to stay cool.”  He grins as they link arms and continue onwards.  Walking up to an attendant, he asks, “Hey, do you know where that melting clock painting is?”

“Sorry?”

“The melting clock painting.  Could you please show us where it is?”

“I’m terribly sorry sir, but I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I don’t think we have any paintings with that description in the museum.  Do you know who the artist is?”

“Dali.  Salvador Dali,” Replies Serena, trying not to be exasperated. “It’s called  _ ‘The Persistence of Memory’ _ .”

“Oh, did he . . . make one of melting clocks?” The attendant ponders out loud. Serena’s frustration leaves her and she finds herself to be completely baffled instead. This person wasn’t pulling their leg. The attendant’s confused expression was utterly genuine. This person legitimately did not know of this painting. “Sure does sound like the type of thing he would do, doesn’t it? How about I direct you to where we’d keep his works -- you can see other things he’s made there. I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you any more than this.”

“Thanks,” said Steve. The attendant produced a map of the museum, pointing out where they were and the path they’d need to take in order to find more of  Dali’s works. The couple gave him a nod and a smile before setting off in the direction he’d indicated. “Hmm. We’re sure that painting is in this museum, right?”

“Yeah, I looked it up online and everything.” Serena sighs, playing with a curl of her blonde hair. “And besides,  _ ‘The Persistence of Memory’ _ is of one of his most iconic paintings. It feels pretty weird that an attendant at the museum doesn’t recognize that description  _ at all _ .”

Steve nodded his head, agreeing with her words. Even if the painting wasn’t displayed here, it wasn’t like the description of ‘melting clocks’ was vague. It was unique and recognizable. And yet, the attendant’s first words were ‘did he make one of melting clocks?’

Maybe the attendant was half asleep or made a mistake? That’s what they thought as they approached another attendant and asked them where the painting was. However, all they received were more confused looks and the awkward suggestion of: “Would you like to look at his other work? You can find many other pieces right here on the map.” 

This new attendant pointed out the same location on the map as the previous one. Steve gave them a thank you and he and Serena continued on their way. Serena squinted her eyes. Okay. It was fairly obvious something weird is going on.

And that feeling only became even more obvious when they made their way to the location. There were many other pieces of Dali’s work on display, but, there was a fairly obvious blank spot on the wall. The information plaques were still there, but they were completely blank.

“What the fuck.” Serena said out loud. Steve looks scandalized. Any other time she would have laughed but the situation is just. . .. so incredibly baffling. 

The two stare at the blank spot on the wall for what feels like forever until they hear a familiar beep come from Serena’s purse. Confused, she reaches in and pulls out her radar. Steve is mildly concerned why she would take that with her on their date but that can wait for another day.

“What is it?” He asks.

“I’m not sure,” Serena replies looking around her, brows furrowed and annoyed. “It’s still analyzing it. . .” All she knows is it must be something big if her radar is freaking out so badly right now. Suddenly, the power flickers off, plunging the museum into darkness and the radar’s illuminated screen is the only source of light for the couple. Steve places a hand on her shoulder to keep her close Serena sighs. “What now?”

Coincidentally, as she utters such words, a new source of light appears. . . from a strange humanoid mass that’s emerging from the wall where the painting once hung. It’s body was pitch black and yet it occasionally twinkled like stars in the cosmos. Its eyes were almond shaped but they were nothing but pure white voids. The light this being gave off came from a wisp of pure magic on it’s head that was eerily like hair but danced and moved as if it was a flame.

 

“C̸̨̕͜ó҉̴̛͝m҉͠e̵͟ ́͏͢h҉̵̕ǫ̨̀͟ḿ̵̕͠͡e̕͏̀͜͠.̶̕͟͢”

 

It spoke in a strange indistinguishable language. One that was most certainly not of human origin. Serena took a quick step back from it, her eyes wide and her expression was almost disturbed. Steve glances between the being and his girlfriend. 

He had no idea what it was but whatever it was, it was clearly distressing Serena. Placing a hand on her shoulder, together they back away from it but the radar makes more sounds, alerting them  more of these creatures are approaching them.

Serena seems to finally pulls herself together in order to snap her fingers. A black vortex briefly appears over Steve, dropping his iconic shield into his grasp, and another vortex appears to engulfs her forearms. Once it fades, a pair of gauntlets and white leather gloves with silver studs on the knuckles are shown to be fitted on her forearms and hands. 

Steve wastes no time in throwing his shield at the nearest creature.  The shield ends up burying itself in the wall, precariously near another Dali painting. Steve looked between the being before him -- that stared at him with those white void like eyes -- and his shield. Okay. Well, he wasn’t expecting that. In response to his actions the being lifts its hand up -- causing Steve to float in the air -- and makes a throwing motion with it’s arm as if it was throwing a baseball and Steve just happened to be that baseball.

He recklessly flew through the air and crashed into various pieces of priceless art. He winced, hoping nothing was broken. As a fan of art himself, he would be pretty upset if anything was broken. And so would his wallet.  Or at least, Tony’s wallet.  Maybe.

When he got to his feet and raised his fists to defend himself, he notices the creatures were gone. . . and so was Serena. He muttered something under his breath. Steve bolted across the room to pull his shield from the wall. Once it was safely in his grasp once more, he looked around for a sign to where his girlfriend and those. . . things were. 

His eyes swept across the room and he located Serena’s radar laying on the floor. He quickly gathered it up, glancing over the buttons and the glowing LCD screen. He had a vague idea of how it worked. He pulled up a list of familiar waves the radar recognized, easily picking out Serena’s name among the other listed titles. Immediately, the machine got to work and within ten seconds, a circle appear on the screen with a ring and arrow around the circle. 

The ringed arrow begins to rotate around the circle, indicating what direction Steve should follow. Steve follows it’s directions with caution. None of those things seem to be present but there’s no knowing if they’ll try to sneak attack him again by phasing through the wall.

 

“Ḓ̰̤i̛͕̹̗͙͕̺ṣ͝t̝̱̀r͏͕̪̬̬a̪̭̹͡c̥̣ț̼̲̪͙̱̹i̸̲̹o̞̺̹͇͟n̼̞͇͍͇͍.͇̫̝͍̘̳͍”

 

That unearthly sound. . .

Steve jumped forward -- away -- from the sound and spun around, pointing his shield at whoever snuck up on him and clutched the radar tightly in his hands. It was one of those things, just as he expected, but the flames were a different hue than the first one he saw. He clenches the handles of his shield a little tighter as he glares the enemy down, waiting for it to act.

Suddenly, there was a beep. The radar. He quickly snuck a glance but something wasn’t right. He took another glance, his brows furrowed in confusion.

 

_    75% Match _ __ __   
  


_ Oh.  _

A realization suddenly dawns upon Steve. He knows a stray finger pressed against a button of the radar when he picked it up, but he assumed nothing happened. However, unknowingly he confirmed that he wanted a comparison between the enemy’s waves and when he selected Serena’s name from the database.

That meant the radar  _ wasn’t  _ searching for Serena. Instead, it was pointing to the things that were being compared to her waves. . . that have a 75% match with her waves. . . 

How could that be possible. . . ?

But he has no time to worry about that now, as the thing -- whatever it was -- was launching itself at him.  He barely manages to dodge, and its charge leads it . . . straight through the wall.  Great. Physical objects don’t seem to matter at all to whatever these things are, but he wasn’t about to find out if that meant he was immune as well. He could only hope Serena was doing better.

He walks out to the middle of the room with the radar, trying to see if he can have it locate her.  He’s frantically pressing buttons when he looks up and sees himself surrounded by the strange beings.

“Well.”  He found himself ducking behind his shield as strange blasts of energy flew at him. His shield absorbed all of it -- thank God for vibranium -- but that only left him at a draw with these things, at best.  He can’t damage them, and all he could do was dodge and block.

He rolls behind a wall, quickly getting up to run for the next room, hoping a plan of action would come to him before he ran himself into the ground.  He was about halfway to the door when he felt his legs turn to lead. His breathing became heavy as he struggled to continue, but the door just didn't seem to come any closer.

He looks down at his legs to see what had them caught, and … they were in the floor.  The solid marble of the ground was slowly dragging him down by his legs.  He looks up and keeps struggling to the door.  He has to get out.

He glances down again, noticing that there was a thick liquid covering the ground that wasn't there a second ago, squelching as he pulled his feet up out of it again, only to suck him back down into the ground.

It takes more and more effort to free himself as he goes, and he knows he can't keep this up for long.  He looks up to see that the beings had surrounded him.  They weren't firing their energy blasts any more, just staring. Their eyes were black and empty, as if their heads were hollow, but he still felt the chill of their gaze piercing him through.  They blocked the way to the edit,  so he couldn't even see the door any more.

It takes all his strength to pull his leg out one more time, but it's no use.

He slips onto his back.  The ground opens up to welcome him.  He takes a deep breath and tries to struggle to his feet again.  No use.  Can't keep fighting it.

He can't breathe, not when his mouth and nose are about to be covered by the sludge.

Some date this turned out to be, he thinks before he closes his eyes and feels the sludge covering his entire face.

“Get a hold of yourself Stevie!” Serena’s voice suddenly fills his ears. An arm wraps around his torso, somehow pulling him from the sludge little by little and without much effort. One of those beings comes close to Serena but she slams her fist right into it’s face before it could even lift a finger. 

A flash of fire emits from her fist, briefly illuminating the fury in her face. The being disintegrates at the touch of the fire, making a horrendous screeching noise. Once she knows Steve is on flat ground she makes use of both of her fists, slamming them into her enemies one after another without even relenting or pausing for a single moment. 

There are only a few more left but they make no move to fight her. They simply stare at her for what seems to be an eternity before they utter one last thing and vanish all together. The lights flicker on and suddenly. . . there are people in the museum once more. It was like the fight never occurred but the thick sludge on Steve’s clothes and Serena’s fists proved otherwise.

Unfortunately, it was also getting a lot of attention. 

Hastily as they can, the couple escape from the museum, silently resolved to have a date at another time on another day. Today was far too hectic and chaotic. Too many questions and not enough answers. Why did Serena have a 75% match with those things. . .  and why was she able to understand what those things said?  She shivered on the bike ride home.

 

“O̷͡u̢͘̕͢r͘҉͝ ̴͏k̢͢͞͞i̧͝n̶͘d͏.̸̢͜”

 

Serena made sure to scrape off as much of the sludge as she could into a series of test tubes before letting Steve shower.  She may not know much now, but this would definitely be a good place to start looking for answers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what is up  
> im lazy as shit  
> and consumed by school  
> and it's been a year  
> well heres a new chapter

Serena feels a lot of conflicting emotions in the days following her date with Steve.

**Anger.**

Which is mostly directed to the media as they claimed she was some punk that’s a bad influence on Steve because of the fight in MoMA. That’s not her fault. AND If she had to see one more news report with blurry pictures of her when there were perfectly usable headshots on the Avengers website, there would be hell to pay.

**Anxiety.**

After running multiple tests and searching multiple databases -- even the one Thor gave her about magical creatures -- she found absolutely nothing.

Those things . . . those things that attacked her and Steve had a near identical magic wave to her own. There were obvious differences but there were too many similarities which should have been impossible. To make that even weirder, they all shared the same wavelength.

That should be impossible, as different life forms have their own unique wavelength, even if they come from the same source.

**Fear.**

Not only did those things share the same wave with her, she could clearly understand what they said unlike Steve.

 

> “Come home.”
> 
> “Our kind.”

Was she truly. . . one of those things?

 

* * *

 

Ultimately, she was **frustrated**.  She knew nothing about them, and she couldn’t find any more instances of them showing up anywhere, no matter how hard she looked.

Finally, after months of waiting, T’challa has come to the tower with the intention of giving Bucky a new arm. However, to give Bucky a new arm, it required the removal of his old one. This wasn’t a task that could be done while standing.

He had to be sitting. . . and strapped down so he wouldn't jerk around violently and injure himself in the process but as they feared, all it did was trigger horrible memories. He put up a fight the whole time -- giving her a black eye in the process -- until Bruce gave him a needleful of some sedative.

It took some time, but it managed to knock Bucky out and Steve held onto his hand for the duration of the surgery. Which, she could see watch via a monitor on her computer, was still going on.

This, however, was not why Serena was frustrated. Bucky panicking like that was something they all knew was possible, even if they gave him a heads up of what was going to happen. He’s had to deal with being strapped down to a chair far too many times so of course this was going to happen.

Bucky’s new arm is sleek and black model made of vibranium and decorated with a white star to represent both his newfound freedom and his friendship with Steve. It was most certainly durable and it going to pack a punch for whatever sad sap got hit by it.

T’Challa needs to be down in the lab in order to help Bucky with his arm first and foremost. It’s far more advanced than anything Tony could make, so Tony can’t simply take things over and just do the job himself.

Despite this knowledge, she wants T’Challa in her office right now. She sent him all the data on those magical energy signatures -- his country has far superior technology and databases, he _has_ to know something -- and she wants answers. _Now_.

But she knows she’s just being selfish and _that’s_ what frustrates her the most.  She turns to the monitor once more to see Steve, holding his old friend's hand and whispering next to his ear as T’challa and his team of Wakandan doctors worked. They were all doing the best they could, she knew.

But waiting is never easy, even with the calming music she'd asked Friday to pipe into her office.  She tries to distract herself with something - anything - but her mind just won’t let her leave.  Before she knew it she was looking at a five foot tall house made out of her note cards.

“Impressive.”  T’Challa’s voice made her jump. In an instant, Serena’s tower toppled. The two stare at the mess of note cards scattered around for several moments before Serena simply pushed them all off the surface of her desk.

“It’s a tragedy that it had to fall apart.” She simple stated, sitting down in her chair once more, crossing her legs and threading her fingers together. “So, do you happen to have anything for me. . . or is this just a casual visit?”

“This is about the data you sent me. The results are . . . troubling, to say the least.”

“Define troubling.”

T’Challa places a tablet on a table, showing the data.  “These energy signatures are indicative of the presence of something my scientists have come to call Echoes.” Serena blankly stares at the man, trying to put a name and face together. . . but she finds nothing. She’s never heard of such a thing before.

“A what? What exactly _is_ an Echo?”

“There’s no clear answer to that.” The data on the tablet’s screen vanish, to be replaced with . . . cryptid-eque photos of the Echo. Although the photos were blurry, she could see the similarities with the images and the creatures she saw a few days ago. “To be honest, they’re hard to observe, much less catch one for research and they’re very uncooperative if you managed to encounter one. The only thing we know for certain is that they’re not human and they have abilities beyond our comprehension, but only use them to steal art and literature.”

“They what?” Serena questions with utter disbelief. All those things _want_ to do with their powers is to steal art and books? What the hell is the point of that?! “Why would they do that?”

“No one knows. They simply appear, wherever or whenever they want, and take what they want. It’s been that way for many years.”

Serena takes a moment to place her face in her hands and let out a deep sigh. This makes no damn sense to her. Some nasty cryptid has a 75% match with her energy waves and all it does is steal art and literature. Why? Why would it waste its time doing that?

She could understand it if they delivered calling cards or held the items for a ransom or sold them but they aren’t doing any of those things. They can't simply be taking for taking. There has to be something more to their actions. _Otherwise it makes no sense!_

“How did they get away with stealing things for so long?” She asks, peeking through her fingers.

T’Challa sighed.  “That is the issue.  We have no record of what was stolen, and it appears that whatever it was they stole, nobody can remember it.  All we have to show for it are the energy signatures they leave behind, and an empty frame where there was once a presumably priceless piece of art.”

“Just like Dali’s Persistence of Time.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Serena shakes her head.  “Nothing, sorry.”

T’Challa raises an eyebrow.  “My ears are very good; would you mind explaining what the Persistence of Time is?”

“A … a painting that they stole.  From the Museum of Modern Art.” Serena muttered, vaguely waving her hand as she spoke. “Steve and I went out on a date at the museum, but no one could remember the painting. . . and then . . . ” Those things. . .Echos attacked them. They wanted her to ‘come home’ and spoke of how she was ‘one of their kind’.

“You should be careful.  If the Echoes have the ability to erase paintings, they may also have the ability to erase people.  I would advise you not to rush in blindly when--” T’Challa is interrupted by a loud alarm coming from Serena’s computer. Rushing to her computers she sees that a map had popped up on the screen and there was a single marker over a point somewhere outside the city.

“Sorry T’Challa, gotta run!”  She exclaims, grabs her bag of research material on the way out.

He sighs. “Be careful.” There is no response, only the sound of the door slamming shut behind her. With everyone so preoccupied with Bucky at the moment, thankfully, there was no one to question her actions. So she was able to quickly jump on her motorcycle, attach her radar to the handlebar it could direct her while she maintained both her hands on the handlebars. Once she put her helmet on, she took off down the streets of Manhattan to the destination of Liberty State Park.

Unfortunately, as she was speeding down a freeway the blip on her radar began to fade, eventually dying out completely before she could even reach the halfway point. This blip of energy was exponentially shorter than any other one that appeared before. Cursing inwardly, she drove the rest of the way to the park with grit teeth.

 

* * *

 

The park gates were cluttered with a large crowd of people, most of which were trying to get as glimpses of what was going on, as the police kept them at bay. A number of people whipped out their phones when an ambulance suddenly flew out the park gates and down the road to reach the hospital, its sirens wailing.

And then, attention turned to her. People were suddenly taking her photo and calling her name. Serena pulled on her best smile and waved just a bit before entering the park gates on her bike.

At first, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary up until she reached Phillip Street. There seemed to be quite a commotion in the Habitat Restoration area but she couldn't glean much details from where she was. There was no other option for her other than to continue following the road until she was closer and then walk on foot to the site.

However, she noticed a familiar jet parked in the middle of the road. It was a one of a kind after all and of Wakandan design. Regardless, maybe she should have take into account someone from the tower would have come and investigate this as well. . . No matter. She decides to park her motorcycle by the jet and make her way through the tidal salt marsh to approach the figures standing in the marsh.

As she expected, T’Challa, along with Tony, were present in full gear. She started to move a little faster but quickly found herself coming to a stop when she caught a glimpse of the impact site. There was a _massive_ hole in the marsh -- ruining years of work and preservation -- and whatever landed there was gone.

Her eyes were pulled from the ground when she heard distinct music emanating from the Iron Man suit not far off. For a moment, her expression was apathetic but she ended up grinning despite herself.

“Really Tony? The X Files theme?” She playfully huffed, putting her hands on her hips

“Of course, someone’s gotta be the life of the party.”  She all but felt the boyish grin hidden behind the metal helmet.  “I’ve got Friday blasting it throughout the Avengers Tower right now.”

“Of course you do.” She snorts. Still, it took her thirty six or so minutes to get to the park, while flying or taking a jet would have taken much less time. Were they just standing around, waiting for her or some opportunity to play the X Files theme? Well, Tony _would_ but she doubts T’Challa was. . . “Was anything here when either of you arrived?”

“Only a few injured civilians that were trespassing in the marsh. An ambulance quickly came and picked them up.” Serena glanced back to the crater with a thoughtful expression. The energy wave in question blinked out in a matter of minutes, just like the one from back in April of 2014. . .

Was her theory correct? Did the return of these readings mean it was possible that Cosmo returned to this era? It was hard to tell with no body - in fact, nothing in the impact site indicated what fell here - and the size of the crater. Maybe she should go visit the hospital and see the injured for herself.

Still, all of this brought forth a bigger question, why are these readings so alike the Echos?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we had to split the chapter because it was so big,  
> so heres part 1 of the finale

But Serena never got the chance to visit the Jersey City Medical Center, and one patient was even transferred to the Hackensack Medical Center for some reason. Bucky made a snide remark how Jersey hospitals sucked when he heard about it. She smacked his arm, despite the fact she was grinning as well.

But fun and games don't exactly last long when you are a group of heroes. It meant duty calls when it wants, not when you need it.

 

* * *

 

Serena’s fingers flew across the keyboard at a high speed as she furrowed her brows and leaned forward in her seat. Just a little more work and she would have this message decoded. She could feel it in the air, something was going to happen so time was of the essence.

Finally, the values started to come together to make some sense to her.

 

_MANHATTAN_

_04212016_

_1800_

 

Serena’s eye glanced to the clock at the corner of her computer’s holographic screen. It was April 21st and . . .

 

_1749_

 

Fuck. That’s not a lot of time to mobilize anything, but it’s better than nothing.

“FRIDAY!” She shouts. As usual, the AI actually responds to her.

_“Yes Miss Starlight?”_

“There’s going to be an attack on Manhattan in ten minutes. We don't know who or what they'll do, but we need people out on patrol to keep an eye out. So, send this alert out to all active and available Avengers within the range of Manhattan.”

 _“Right away.”_ Serena makes a motion with her hand, causing a screen of her computer to fly over to her. The only thing visible on the holographic screen was a large blank rectangular shape. With her index finger she begins to illustrate something worth each careful stroke. When the symbol was complete the lines and the rectangle softly glowed, slowly the image of the rectangle shrank to the size of an average SD Card.

Like magic, Serena pulled the card right out of her computer screen and rolled her seat over to another desk in her office where a tarp covered the surface. Pulling the tarp away revealed a small, spherical droid with a small dome on top of its round body, made from vibranium.

“Time to wake up, Helios.” Serena says with a smile despite the situation at hand. With the command the little droid beeps. The dome moves into the proper upright position, informing her it has properly booted up, and the round body rolls up to the edge of the table for the chip it knows Serena has for it.

Serena carefully removed the dome from the main body, cradling it in the palm of her hand. With some minor tinkering she opens up the head to slide the chip into place. Once she properly closes it up she moves the head closer to the body and the magnetic pull attaches the head to the body once more.

The little droid makes a few test runs to assure its head it properly attached. Seeing that it is, it propels itself off the table and makes its way to the launch pad so it could safely take off and survey the area as instructed.

Serena rolled back to her computer to check the time.

 

_1753_

 

Only seven more minutes until something happened. . .

“FRIDAY,” Serena called once more. “Did you send out my message?”

_“As you requested, I passed along the message to all available Avengers. This would be Captain Steve Rogers, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, Mr. Tony Stark and Mr. Clint Barton.”_

“Jesus Christ.” Serena mutters. “That’s hardly anyone.”

Iron Man flew over Manhattan, trying to scan for possible signs of attack.  Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky were on the ground in civilian gear, which for them meant matching baseball caps and baggy hoodies. Bucky wore a glove over his metal hand, and Steve had a conspicuously round knapsack on his back from which he happened pulled a snack out of in an attempt to look casual as the pair looked around.

Clint was perched on the roof of a skyscraper, where he claimed he could see everything.  The archer crouched down, eyes surveying the traffic and bustle that was always happening in New York during the day.

Unseen, the Helios droid was flying high above Manhattan, wired up to the control panel of a small cloaked jet.  From here, it could send a live video feed of everything it saw through the jet’s camera to Serena, who could in turn update her instructions to it.

A tensed silence passed . . .

 

_1800_

 

Until an explosion and screams of terror and fear resounded in the distance.

Well, there it was.

_FUCK_

Helios immediately got to work searching for an escape route the moment it determined where the blast came from and took note of numerous robotic bodies emerging from the sewers. Helios skillfully lands the small jet on top of some robots, crushing them and detaches itself from the jet.

The round droid proceeds to beep to gather the attention of panicked civilians, once it sees it has the attention of people a thin steel antenna extends from the small body and a yellow flag unfurls from the top. Helios beeps once more and he proceeds to take off in order to lead the people to safety. A number of individuals do look on, completely baffled by the small droid and it’s seemingly sudden appearance.

Thankfully, Iron Man descends from the sky, telling them to move it and follow the droid with the yellow flag. A number of more people were thankful for Hawkeyes efforts in shooting down any robots that attempted to get close to them as they escaped to safety.

Some distance away, Steve and Bucky mobilize for action. Steve attempts to jump over a mailbox, unaware of a fatal flaw to his plan. His skinny jeans, the one Serena loves so much, are far too tight. He fumbles like a fool and impacts with the street, face first.

For a moment, he contemplates life and his actions behind pulling these cursed pants from his closet. He should have _really_ known better than to pull these on. . .

Suddenly, above his head, is a resounding clank of metal against metal. Lifting his head up he can see that one of the enemy robots now has a rather lovely impression of Bucky’s fist in its head. Bucky glances down at him and lets out a sigh before offering his hand to him a smile.

“Don't do something stupid like that again.”

“Sure thing Buck,” Steve reaches into the bag and tugs on his shield. In what was meant to be a swift -- and cool -- flourish of his weapon has become nothing but a cruel joke. His shield is _stuck in the bag._ Bucky, with his fists still raised and ready, glanced back to his friend with apathy written on his face.

“Are you serious right now.” Steve just shrugged in response, grabbing the bag by a strap and swinging it in a wide arc at the nearest robot.

In everyone's earpiece came Hawkeye's voice.   _"Guys, there are two more groups of civilians who need evacuation. Doesn't seem like the bots have noticed them yet."_

 _“I'm on it,”_ Tony responded. Just as he was about to take off towards the civilians Hawkeye piped up once more.  
  
_“No can do, Iron Man. There’s another group of bots headed towards Helios. I need you on them.”_

Steve, who finally wrestled his shield free from the bag by bashing it against the heads of the horde of robots enough times that the bag was torn apart, quirked an eyebrow at Bucky, who nodded back. “We can go, tell us where they are."

 _“Both groups are hiding in alleys. Steve, you go a block north and you'll find them in an alley to the east. Bucky, you go south.”_  
  
“Roger that.” Steve glances to his friend, who nods his head in return. Together, the pair of lifelong friends head to their destinations before splitting ways to head down their respective paths.

Bucky quickly found his group composed of three young adults but as he approached them, it was only then he realized, he had minimal people skills. Any skills he had before the war and his capture by HYDRA was completely down the drain. . . and it was a known fact that, despite being an official member of The Avengers, not everyone in the public took kindly to him.

Still. . . if he just played it cool. . . things would be alright. . .

Right?

“Ah, hello, everyone.” The people began to glance at each other, whispering among themselves in confusion. Awkwardly, Bucky cleared his throat. “Please, follow me to safety.” The people, thankfully, didn't look so worried now that he stated his intentions. 

_nailed it_

Bucky makes a motion for the people to follow him. . . but they don't. He glanced back to them, baffled by their actions, but, now that his initial nerves have subsided, he realizes something off about these people.

Their eyes.

They didn't seem. . . right. Unfocused, as if they’re not here at all. . .

Bucky’s brain nearly reverts to old protocol when one of the individuals jump for him. He instead swiftly sidesteps to avoid them but another quickly lunges for him. Again he sidesteps to avoid hurting the person . . . but then there’s a metallic clang as the person hits the ground.

Wait?

A clang?

_People don't fucking clang!_

He has no time to check on the sound as another person comes charging at him. He manages to keep them at bay by placing his hand on their forehead. Bucky then takes a moment to jerk his head in the direction of the fallen individual from not too long ago to find that there was no person there, only a robot.

It only took a matter of seconds to realize what is happening. There never was a group of people needed to be evacuated. It was just these damn robots in disguise! _Like a goddamn Transformer!_

Suddenly, he feels a much stronger force pushing against his hand and slowly sliding him against the asphalt. The per -- _the robot_ \-- he was holding back is suddenly putting more strength and effort into knocking him over, probably because their secret is out. Bucky roots his feet to the ground and keeps his stance strong.

With his other arm, he grabs one of the robot's arms by it’s elbow and proceeds to flip it onto the one that’s remained unmoving on the ground. The bodies smash against each other with a loud clang -- a sound similar to the smashing of pots and pans -- and one of the bodies twitch before ceasing all movement all together.

“Hawkeye,” Bucky calls, pressing his index and middle finger to his earpiece. He waits for several moments but there’s only silence. He furrows his brows and tries again. . . but there’s still no answer. He curses under his breath.

Either Hawkeye purposely lead them into this mess, which is _incredibly_ unlikely, or he was ambushed -- which was also unlikely but the most plausible out of the two.

There was a sudden impact to Bucky’s side. It knocked him to the floor and his earpiece fell from it’s position. He winces as he glances up.

Right.

There was a third robot.

“Goddamn it.”

 

* * *

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Serena bellows, smashing her hand against the holographic keyboard of her computer. “Piece of SHIT!” She immediately regrets her words as she apologizes to her computer and gives it a sympathetic pat. “But come the fuck on. . .” Serena mutters with detest as she tries, once more, to remotely reboot Helios. It’s a no go. “An army of robots from the sewers. . . And all camera and communication feed just cuts off? “Who exactly are we dealing with. . .?” She furrows her brows in annoyance and smashes buttons to do a reboot AGAIN.  She knew she should have studied in Wakanda, if she could have magical backups to the tech this wouldn’t be happening.  Why is it even acting like this? There’s no problem with the system. . . Just as she was about to attempt another reboot a transmission comes in.

_“Starlight. We have a man down. I repeat a man down. Hawkeye was attacked, possible concussion. The robots were a decoy. Their objective was Cap.”_


	8. Chapter 8

_“Steve . . .”_

_“Stevey boy. . .”_

_“C’mon boy. . .”_

**_“Wake up!”  
_ **

 

* * *

 

The sound of a resounding slap echoes in the room -- which reeks of garbage and other unsanitary things -- which was occupied by two individuals at the moment. One was able to stand on their own feet at the present moment, but they looked as if they’ve seen better days despite the baggy clothes and heavy bags under their eyes.

“You don't make things easy, Stevey.” They sigh, adding another padlock to the chain and rope that bound the drugged patriotic hero to an old and disgusting recliner chair. It couldn't be helped, given that they lacked the supplies and funding they once had. They simply had to make do with what they had.

“Now,” They coo seating themselves in a steel chair in front of Steve. “Tell me about Mrs. Starlight.”

“She’s a real ducky shincracker. . .”

what

“She’s a real cookie but she also really dislikes ‘em motorized freckles . . . that gal of mine. . .” Steve beams with a dumb look on his face.

Oh Jesus CHRIST.

He’s so drugged up that he's reverted to 40s slang. . . Goddamn he’s hardly any use use like this. What. Was the dosage too much for someone with the actual Super Soldier Serum in them? Well, they can't fix that now that its in. . . They’ll get their answers out of ‘America’s Pride’ one way or another.

“No, no, no.” They sigh, propping their folded hands on top of their knee. “I want to know what she’s researching.”

“Oh.” There’s a long pause. They raise a brow at Steve, who is now resting his head on his own shoulder. “Someth’ really crock-eyed. These things ’bout Echos. . .”

Echoes?

What the _fuck_?

Okay. Clearly, this piece of shit is trying to play them like a fiddle. However that would be easy to fix.

Keeping a smile on their face, they lift up the nearby crowbar resting on the floor and swing it, smashing it against Steve’s head. The reclining chair jerks with the motion but it manages to remain upright. They smile, tapping the crowbar against their palm.

“Come now Stevey boy, let’s not make this complicated. I rather not involve your woman in this if necessary. You two must talk about everything, so clearly, she must have spoke to you about her research. So tell me. What is Serena Starlight researching?” Steve’s head rolls to the side, smearing blood on the dirty material. He gives his attacker the most apathetic look he can muster in his drugged state.

“You better shut up or I’m gonna blow a fuse and take you down to the farm.”

Another dull thud as the crowbar strikes him in the ribs.

“Now now Stevey boy, please just speak. English. From this decade. It’s . . . important that we know what’s going on.”

Steve just shrugs, a dopey grin still on his face. “Iunno who you guys even are.”

“Just a group with interests in … protecting the world.  Surely you can see we should work together, Captain.”

“I’ll dust you when I'm outta here yanno, fat-head”

“Stevey, old friend, please.  Can’t you recall just one thing about her research? For me?”

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm” Is the only sound emanating from Steve as he puts on an extremely exaggerated concentrating face for a few seconds. “No dice.” They let out a heavy and rather reluctantly sounding sigh.

“I see, if you continue to act this way I’ll have to go to her directly. How disappointing. I was hoping to avoid such an outcome but if this is what you’ve chosen. So be it.”

“Hol on jus a second,” Came Steve’s voice. Looking back to their captive, they see Steve is suddenly leaning as forward as his bindings could let him with a. . .somewhat serious look. “Imma need you to come . . . closer.”

“Aren’t we close enough as it is, my friend?”

Steve giggled. “Iss a secret. Secret research.”

The figure sighed.  “Very well.”  They leaned their ear close to Steve’s face and whispered, “What is this secret?” The only sound that came next was the snapping of the rope and chain bindings holding Steve, accompanied by his newly freed fist swinging at the mystery figure’s face.

The figure staggered back with a hand over their swollen eye as Steve grinned coyly. The figure furrowed their brows at him as they got to their feet once more.

“Come now, I was being as peaceful and compliant as I could! A cheap shot like that was a dirty and underhanded tactic! Especially for a man like you!”

Steve just smiled back and put a finger to his lips. “Shhhh . . . secret tictac”

“Secret _what_ ?!” They shout with a mix of anger and confusion but Steve keeps looking at them with that dumb smug look on his face. Like, he’s so utterly proud of that. . . that ridiculous _pun_ he made!

God. Is this really the hero America looks up to. This. . . This blundering buffoon?! Why must he make things so complicated!? All this had to be was a simple exchange of information and everything would have been fine!

Steve comes charging at them once again with a fist raised high and ( over ) dramatically screaming, however -- due to the drugs in his system and with how overly loud he’s being -- it’s easy for the figure to avoid the hit as Steve’s swing is far too wide.

Sidestepping out of the way, Steve ended up stumbling in the wall behind the individual with a loud smack. Steve struggles to get to his feet in his muddled haze and the figure jumps as they notice Steve has placed his hand in what appears to be a hole in the wall.

“You fool! Don't touch that-!!”

But it was far too late.

Steve’s hand slipped, plunging into what was in actuality a chute for a garbage compactor that was equipped with blades to easily dismantle any huge pieces of trash. The sensor activated and the blades came to life with a loud whirl.

A horrific scream of utter agony and the grinding of bone filled the room as blood and gore sprayed the wall.

 

* * *

 

“STEVE!”

                                                         “Oh my god. . . Stevey. . .”  

                                                  “Holy shit!”

“I-I think I’m going to be sick. . . ?”                     

**“Don't just stand there!”**

**“He needs medical attention!”**

**“STAT!”**

 

* * *

 

Apparently, when he met up with the group people that needed to be evacuated they turned out to be robots as well. The robots were all well equipped with hologram projectors that made them appear as normal humans and that caused Steve to hesitate when they attacked him, which was all the time they needed to drug him.

Steve was apparently drugged with what was a well crafted knock off of a serum that was originally created by HYDRA to keep the Winter Soldier under control. Maybe his serum effected Steve differently due to him having the real and perfected Super Soldier serum.

Still, by some miracle, Steve made it out alive. Even after his deadly encounter with the chopping blades in the compactor. . . If that person really wanted to get rid of Steve or forcefully extract information out of him, they could have shoved his other arm or limbs into the machine as well.

But they didn’t.

Instead, they put an effort into pulling him and his mangled out of the machine and even turned off the auto sensor.

It’s honestly a mystery who this person is and what exactly their motive was. . .

“He’s fine.” Serena pulls herself from thoughts at the sound of Bucky’s voice. As much as he tries, a hint of fear and concern for his friend shines through. Serena manages to smile and gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.

“Yeah.” She grins. “Just don't make any jokes about how he can't properly jerk it anymore.” Bucky gives her a stern.

“We can rebuild him. . . We have the technology. . .” The two look utterly serious before breaking into a fit of wild and obnoxious laughter. God. They are just. The Worst. His childhood friend and only anchor in this era -- who is also _her_ boyfriend that she loves the shit out of and would do anything for -- is in the hospital after one seriously fucked up situation.

The elevator’s doors slide open with a silent swish and tension washes over them once more. Serena stands a little taller and Bucky’s hands tighten on the bouquet of flowers he purchased. The two glance to each other and nod their heads.

Walking down the hall, the two quickly located Steve’s room in the SHIELD Medical Facility. Serena gazes upon her boyfriend with sad eyes. Steve really looked like hell. Whoever took him didn’t smack him over the head hard enough to cause any skull fractures, luckily, all Steve got was a mild concussion and his ribs were simply bruised.

On the other hand, the side of his face was an ugly purple and yellow color due to the large mass of bruises decorating it and a black eye. And. . . according to the doctors, everything below his right elbow was beyond salvaging. Steve was going to need a prosthetic replacement.

Suddenly, Steve turns to Serena. The exhaustion on his face suddenly fades away and he smiles gently at her, offering his one good hand to her. Tears build up in her eyes but she refuses to break down. Instead, Serena hurries over to his side as fast as her feet could carry her and throws her arms around his neck.

Steve is taken by surprise by the strength in her hug but he softly smiles once more before affectionately patting her backside and resting his face in the crook of her neck.

“Sorry for worrying you Star. . .” He whispers softly. She shakes her head.

“Don’t say something stupid like that.” She mumbles. “I mean-- of course you’re going to worry someone by being in the hospital, but, it’s not your fault you’re here!” She goes silent for a moment, clutching Steve tighter before she simply lets go. She takes a step back and looks at the black and white checkered tiles on the floor. Anywhere but him.

“‘S mine.”

“Star. . .”

“Don't.” She firmly states, stopping him before he can even protest or even climb out the bed to reach her. Steve’s hand limply falls back onto the bedsheets and he glares at it with frustration. “I should have realized something was off about that transmission I intercepted. I should have known it was a trap.” The room is silent for several moments. Serena is vaguely aware Bucky was out at the moment, probably looking for a vase for the flowers. She let’s out a sad sigh and makes her way over to the door when Steve speaks up.

“I would have gone anyway.” He firmly tells her. “There were real people there. In danger and in need of help. You should know, more than anyone else, that I can't turn my back on people like that.”

“I know. You’re such an idiot like that. . .” Serena sighs. Despite her intentions, her feet are taking her back to Steve’s bedside. She quietly sits on the edge of the bed, looking down to her hands on her lap. She can see Steve’s is not far away but. . . she can't will herself to take his. “But, I still feel awful that this happened. . . I’m so sorry Stevey. . .”

“Hey, I’d do it again if I had to.” Serena lets out a sigh of disbelief. . . but then she feels Steve holding onto her hand as if it’s a lifeline. She looks to him with confusion, tears shimmering in her eyes. He gazes back with nothing but utter seriousness . . . and love. “I mean it. Whoever that was, they wanted to know about you.”

“. . .What?” Serena whispers with wide eyes. Her? This person was after her?

“They wanted to know what you were researching. . . I have no idea what that is. . .” He admits with a shrug. “But, no matter what it is, I would never sell you out. I would gladly protect you with my life.” A smile pulls at Steve’s lips. He takes his hand from Serena’s and gently wipes the tears that are falling from her eyes between soft strokes of his thumb against her cheeks. “You're my precious star after all. Now, let me see that dazzling smile.” Looking a bit shy, he tentatively added: “Please?”

A smile breaks across Serena’s face, her eyes filled with warmth. She suddenly lunges forward, cupping Steve’s face in her hands and kisses him with all the love and passion she posses for him. Parting, she gazes into his lovestruck eyes and a dumb pleased and excited grin covers her face.

“You gotta let me do the same thing Stevey.” She coos, squishing his face in her hands. “You can't be the only one putting in that much dedication into this relationship. Let me fight for you too and follow you to the ends of the universe. You mean so much to me. . .”

“You mean you don't already do that?” He teases softly. Serena smiled back, pulling him in for another kiss. Hearing Steve say how much she means to him is always a wonderful reminder. A reminder that they will be able to overcome anything and they can find happiness despite the fact they’re so sorely out of place in this era and this world.

“Wow. That’s gross.”

And of course, Bucky is here to crash the party. Serena parts from her boyfriend to stick her tongue out at Bucky. Steve grins at the spectacle, more than pleased that his best friend and best gal are getting along just fine. Which, honestly, makes them happy in turn.

“Those flowers look nice Buck. . .” Steve muses as he watches his friend place the vase with pretty white flowers on the bedside table. “What are they?”

“Oh, uh, the lady at the flower shop. . .” For a moment Bucky stumbles over his words and hastily glances away. “She said they were pink carnations. . .”

 

* * *

 

_“They mean gratitude. . .  for understanding. . .”_


End file.
